Corruption
by Sniggyfrumps
Summary: A closer look at that one crucial moment in time when things went terribly wrong. - Oneshot, takes place during Golden Age.


**A/N: **Betaing be done by beautybelle300256. You listen to her, kids. She makes crazy amounts of sense.

* * *

**Corruption**

The eerie display intimidated the usually overjoyed monkeys to huddle up in a trembling group hug. Before them, a brilliant blend of technological and magical engineering separated them from… from… well, they couldn't exactly comprehend _what_ – just that the gateway emanated an intense feeling of utter _wrongness_.

However, that didn't seem to put off their older brother. The orange monkey edged closer, entranced, yet fearful of the danger in front of him. Mandarin was well aware of his cowering siblings – their fear was present as a sharp smell that made something inside twist painfully.

He'd be in front of them, he'd stand his ground. He was overwhelmed, but did not shy away.

As he should have.

* * *

_"No! What have you done?!"_

The Alchemist turned with horror, shocked by what shouldn't be possible – the gateway had been breached – how, _how_? A beastly, primal hand shot out and seized the panicking Alchemist; inhuman shrills were heard from the portal and in the background his dear monkeys were chattering loudly in hysteria.

And - for a fragment of a moment - all went silent.

But then… _then_

**_pathetic human scum_**_ DO YOU NOT COMPREHEND WHAT WE ARE **arrogant pile of flesh and electricity** **I'LL KILL YOU I'LL KILL YOU I'LL TEAR THE BONES FROM YOUR STILL WRITHING CORPSE **FOOLISH SIMPLE TECHNOLOGY stop it NAILS AND IRON stop screaming it hurts CANNOT IMPRISON US it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts_

A cacophony of insane ramblings bombarded his mind, threatening to tear it apart by the sheer malicious power of intent. The body of the Alchemist refused to respond – being completely unable to acknowledge the extreme, desperate fright that screamed at paralyzed nerves and muscles to react.

_what are we to you** ridiculous bag of dirt** what are we to you what are we to you I WILL TEAR DOWN THESE INFERIOR PLANES OF REALITY it's sharp it hurts it hurts I SHOULD KEEP YOU FOREVER FOR YOUR ARROGANCE time is clawing at me it hurts **I WANT TO EAT PARTS OF YOU I WANT TO WRING THE WATER FROM YOUR CADAVER how you amuse me human does this knowledge delight you** DO NOT ATTEMPT TO PLACE FOOLISH CONCEPTS ON US space is cramping my back it hurts it hurts _

Time seemed to stretch itself in front of him - a feeling of being confined within himself for eternity induced an intense desire to scream until his throat bled.

_there is not enough room it hurts **I'LL MAIM YOU I'LL STRETCH YOU I'LL PICK THE SKIN OFF YOUR MEAT it would make for amusing sounds make him scream for me** I DO NOT WANT TO KILL YOU PITIABLE CREATURES **scream for me** I WANT TO FOREVER ERASE THE MEMORY OF EXISTENCE there'll be no walls to close us in it'll stop hurting please please it hurts PAIN IS MERE SPARKS BETWEEN STRINGS OF FLESH **how cute of you to see us as evil **DO YOU THINK WE CAN BE KILLED **what do we care about your useless notions and words scream for me** TIME CANNOT it hurts SPACE CANNOT it hurts WE CANNOT it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts_

It lasted forever and it lasted a second. Time is their plaything. Space is but a nuisance. Existence does nothing but hinder them. They can wait. They _will_ wait. They will come. They wait. It hurts.

The Alchemist's eyes snapped open and he was able to let out that one final – truly human – scream.

* * *

The Alchemist tapped the console. It wasn't an act to express impatience, but rather to occupy his hands with… something. Anything. He used to work on his projects with a sense of frustration - there were never enough hours in the day to accomplish his goals, no matter how great a help Gibson had proved himself to be.

These days, the feeling that time was never again to be an issue wouldn't leave him. It was… unsettling, to say the least.

He turned from the console to trail the glass of the orange tube with a hand, pale from an incurable illness. The face underneath was indifferent, but oddly stern in its sleep - like it was absolutely determined to excel in this particularly given task.

Mandarin would remember someday. Would he feel guilt? He shouldn't. Ultimately, he, the Alchemist was to blame. He should not have built it. He should have known better... the others had recoiled, but Mandarin had… well. It couldn't be changed. It couldn't.

The Alchemist breathed deeply.

As he strode away into the deeper confines of his laboratory, the Alchemist pondered his decisions… the consequences… the outcomes… the events leading up to it… the faces… the names…

Until the time came and it no longer mattered.


End file.
